


pinky promise

by Anonymous



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Trans, Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, POV Second Person, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Trans Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Trans Chloé Bourgeois, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 11:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17641700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Chloé and Adrien and pinky promises.Or, a universe where Chloé and Adrien are explicitly trans and come out to each other before anyone else, through Chloé's perspective.





	pinky promise

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this post from tumblr (beelinesquare.tumblr.com/post/180528066291/).
> 
> Trigger warnings: although there is no direct or personal transphobia that Chloé and Adrien experience in this fic, at one point Chloé is afraid of coming out to the general public due to the transphobia of society. Also, deadnames and former pronouns are used before Chloé and Adrien realize that they're trans.

You are five and it's your birthday and you don't have a mom anymore.

It feels like a bad dream, like a nightmare, like if you just pinch your cheek hard enough, you'll wake up in her arms. Like she'll kiss your forehead and brush back your hair and you'll drift back into sleep, comforted by her perfume. Like normal.

But it’s not.

You pinch your cheek till it's bruised. You cry until there’s nothing left. When you look at the mirror, red-rimmed eyes meet yours, and you grimace because Maman would never let herself look like this. Maman was always beautiful, even when she said goodbye.

Papa won't look at you when you ask him why she left.

Your heart asks, why didn’t she take you with her?

(And part of it answers, why would she take you in the first place?)

  


* * *

  
Papa introduces you to Mme. Agreste reluctantly, his voice slow as he says her name. You’ve seen her before, from a distance at high class parties and important events. She reminds you of Maman in a distant way.

(Later, you will recognize it in the way she moves. They share the same grace, the same easy confidence in their bodies that you’ve found yourself trying to copy in the cover of the night.)

She says her name is Emilie; that her mother left when she was a little girl. Her voice is warm and her words are honey and when she says she wants to get to know you better, your eyes well up and you nod with your jaw set because if you open your mouth, you’ll start crying again.

It doesn’t matter in the end. When she hugs you, you end up sobbing into her shoulder.

  


* * *

   
In one week, you will meet Adrien Agreste for the first time, though Emilie will call him Angelique. He will be wearing a yellow dress that sets off his eyes and a smile that looks shaky. He will be beautiful (he will always be beautiful) and you will tell him yellow is your favorite color. It will be your favorite color because he is wearing it and it will be your favorite color for a long, long time.

(He will be your favorite person for a long, long time.)

  


* * *

   
When Angelique comes over for a playdate, you can’t take your eyes off of her dress.  It’s garishly pink and covered in glitter and sequins and you have never wanted something more on your body in your eight short years of life.

“I wish I could wear your dress.” It slips out, unbidden, and you turn to wince once you hear yourself say the words. Maybe, if she didn’t hear -

“Let’s trade then,” she says, and when you turn back around she’s already stripping out of the princess costume, down to her regular clothes, holding the dress out to you. Seeing your hesitation, she says, “I’ve always wanted to be the dragon anyway.”

You peel your green costume off and put the pink disaster over your clothes. Emilie isn’t around, your fathers are at work. The servants are doing other things because they’re all aware Angelique will keep you in check. No one has to know.

No one has to know.

The dress feels light in a way that makes your skin want to sing. When you look over at Angelique as a dragon, her grin is practically rapturous, eyes glinting in the light with an openness you can’t remember ever seeing before. In this angle in front of the window, she’s glowing like something holy.

Your heart feels three sizes too big, all of a sudden. Something is happening. And you think you’re not really sure what that something is.

You save the Prince Ken doll from the Dragon’s Tower and you smile so much while the two of you are playing that it almost hurts. It feels so right. It feels so right and you have to keep your voices down but it doesn’t even matter.

“Next time, can we do this again?” She asks. As if you could ever be happy being a prince or a dragon ever again -- as if there’s any going back.

“It’s our secret,” you tell her, swapping the dress in your hands for the costume in hers.

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

She sighs in relief, dramatic as ever. “You’re a much better princess anyway.”

That phrase turns in your head, over and over and over, like if you don’t keep it in your thoughts it’ll wisp away. She called you a **better** princess. Angelique, the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, called you a princess. You ride the glow for weeks.

You will remember it forever.

  


* * *

   
You’re eleven and it’s midnight and you think a part of you has always known. From the moment you saw him in that yellow dress and he stared back. You embrace not-Angelique in your arms and he holds you like you’re the first thing he’s ever had.

  


* * *

   
“I can’t have my best friend have a name that clashes with mine, oh my God, Agreste.”

You’re a little old for a sleepover but even older for a playdate. Most nights you two do a call, and you’ve fallen asleep to each other’s voices more than once. You know you’re the only person his age that he talks to but you wonder if he knows that he’s your only friend too.

“I feel like it’d be worse if our names matched. Like, Danielle and Daniel or -”

“Denise and Dennis. Blech. You’re totally right. Okay, what names have you been thinking about? I’m going to write down a list so we can see how they work together…”  
 

  


* * *

   
“Can you say it? Just one more time.”

“Adrien,” you say. “Adrien Agreste. Adrien Agreste is my best friend and I love him. Alright, your turn.”

“Chloé. Chloé Bourgeois. Chloé Bourgeois is my best friend and I love her.”

  


* * *

   
In two months, you’ll tell your father that you’re not Conrad, you’re Chloé. And he won’t really understand but he’ll love you anyway. And you’ll hug him so hard you think your arms are coming off.  

  


* * *

   
You’re twelve and it’s your first day of middle school. It’s your first day of being Chloé in the real world, not just in the safety of your bedroom.

You and Adrien took days to plan out your outfit and you’re so nervous and excited and terrified you don’t know how to think. It almost feels like autopilot until you’re in the backseat of the car with Adrien beside you, holding your hand.

Your fingers are freezing but his are so warm.

“I’m so proud of you, Chloé,” he says. “Whatever happens, I’ll always be here.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

  


* * *

   
You’re thirteen and you’ve already told Jean that you’re expecting Adrien. But you’re sitting on a seat near the front door anyway, nervously fidgeting as you wait to hear back from him. You’ve been calling him Adri in front of everyone else for years because it sounds close enough to Angie for no one to think anything’s up, but after today you won’t have to anymore. At least not for that reason.

Adrien texts you as soon as he’s done. His dad didn’t hug him, didn’t smile. Just told him he’ll be changed to be in the male fashion line in the next shoot, disinterested and dismissive. Adrien tells you he’s relieved, but you know him. You know him better than you’ve ever known anyone.

And when you show up at his door, you do what he did for you. What the two of you have always done for each other. What you always will.

(He melts into your arms and you tell him everything he deserved to hear.)

  


* * *

   
“I’m so proud of you, Adrien. Whatever happens, I’ll always be here.”  

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are both welcomed.
> 
> If you want to talk more about Adrien and Chloe's relationship (in any form!), feel free to DM me at beelinesquare on tumblr!


End file.
